The Old Kingdom
by Riot of the Blood Kyo
Summary: A story of a not-distant ancestor of Ashley Riot. Vagrant Story fans will like, I hope... Your comments are greatly appreciated.
1. Default Chapter

The Old Kingom  
  
By Riot of the Blood Kyo  
  
Introduction  
  
Alright, I won't lie to you. The legal whatnot is to come, but for now, know that I own three (main) characters who will be identified later due to fear of revealing any bit of the story. If you want to read the legalities, they are at the end of the chapters.  
  
This is the story of a not-distant ancestor of Ashley Riot, told by me; Riot of the Blood Kyo (FF.net name...).  
  
This is not actual.  
  
Squaresoft has nothing to do with this story, except some appendages on which I rely its base.  
  
I hope you enjoy this story, as I have crafted it with pride. I think fans of Vagrant Story may find this tale entertaining.  
  
Read on. 


	2. Chapter 1

-Chapter 1- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
It was indeed a black day when a cloaked man come to the old Castle. This man's name was William Riot, but always prefered to be called upon as "Fal". Beneath the shady hood of his, there was a roughly carved face with prominant cheek-bones and chin. Brownish-red hair fell lighty over his eyes, which were a dark hazel color. Sweat dropped from his cream-colored chin.  
  
Fal's strewn mouth drew in air. The desert was a hot place after all.   
  
He had been traveling for days to the Kingdom which was seemingly tucked away into nowhere to meet once again with his family for a reunion of some sort. Fal was a prince, but preferred not the lime-light. His decision of leaving inheritance of the throne to his brother came into effect when he was twenty, and his clumsy, careless, and irresponsible ways gained him a reputation in the family. Upon realizing this, Fal left his brother in charge. No real concern.  
  
So here he was in front of the Castle doors, wiping sweat from his dirty palms.  
  
If he was going to appear in front of his brother, whether he was king or not, Fal was going to try to be of acceptable stature.  
  
He had nothing to give, all that he had was a dirty brown cloak and a rusted sword locked into a black leather sheath.   
  
...So here he was in front of the Castle doors, wiping sweat from his dirty palms.  
  
He slowly drew his rust-ruined hand from underneath the wretched cloth and gave the door three good knocks.  
  
After a few spare moments, the wooden gates slowly swung open with a booming creak, and slammed into the locking. Fal looked about quickly for some sign of family, but instead found a small red-haired girl standing in front of him. There was no else.   
  
Fal knelt down to face her.  
  
She saw the inquisitive look on his face, and gave an innocent smile.  
  
"Hullo." She peeped.  
  
Fal, not quite familliar with children, spoke without hesitation.  
  
"And who may you be, child?"  
  
She shook her head which caused her golden-red curls to bounce, and gently took his hand, as rough and beaten as it was, then tugged it.  
  
He stood again, waiting to be directed.  
  
The girl's soft skin rubbed comfortably against Fal's as she led him down the long hallways.  
  
Stopping in front of the throne room door, the small lady softly wispered "You first, sir."  
  
Unsure, Fal looked at her, at the door, then at her again. With apprehension, he threw the door open.  
  
A large, bearded man slid in front of Fal, and brandishing a hearty, teeth-filled grin, his arms were around him, nearly crushing him in a loving hug.  
  
The bearded man laughed a mighty laugh and Fal's lungs were filled with the smell of sweetly-roasted chicken and red wine.  
  
"Brother! You're bloody late, you bastard!!" He exclaimed in happiness.  
  
Fal gave a half nod, still held tightly in his brother's arms.  
  
"Speaking of which..." He said between wheezes, "...I'm lacking some vital circulation right now..."  
  
The man dropped Fal to his feet. "You could say hellow to your brother, you know!"  
  
Fal blinked hard and took a deep breath.  
  
He looked about the room. Their mother and father were chatting quietly near a table, the red-haired girl wandered aimlessly around, and there was a shady character in the corner. Interesting. Fal's attention switched to the little girl.  
  
"Who's that?" He asked bluntly, not feeling quite impressed about not being informed.  
  
The brother turned to Fal. "Why that's my daughter!" He boomed.  
  
Fal's pupils shrunk.  
  
"Daughter? And why was I not notified?" He spat, annoyed.  
  
"Well-"  
  
"Enlighten me."  
  
"...The mother is your childhood love." He scratched the back of his head.  
  
Fal shook his feelings off. "Lothair, I frankly don't give interest to those sort of things anymore." He contemplated. "...And it is still not excuse for not telling your brother of the birth of his sibling's child, or his marrage!"   
  
Lothair nervously shook his head.  
  
"...Anyway, I'm sure you are curious about the rest of the family!" He left the room.  
  
Fal snorted furiously. What a curr.  
  
As uninterested as he was, though, he was going to meet the rest of the family whether he liked it or not. Starting at his parents, anything that slightly resembled interest in what they had to say was soon diminished and it wasn't long before he left them. Fal's real interest was the shady character in the corner, but he had decided that he would save talking to him for last as this was a habit of his.   
  
Fal met with the red-haired girl. She had been sitting down at a table (and her seat was a might too big), eating some sort of prepared meal consisting of cooked vegetables and whatnot. Fal pulled a seat out beside her and sat down. A few moments passed before either of them spoke.  
  
"...Your father is my brother, you know." Fal spoke with no child-bearing euphamisms.   
  
The girl kept her view on her plate, kicked her feet, cocked her head back and fourth while munching and replied "I know."  
  
It seemed that everyone but he knew that she existed before tonight's gathering.  
  
Fal looked about.  
  
He leaned in towards the child and asked "Who is that?", pointing at the man in the dark corner.  
  
The girl looked up from her platter to the black portion of the room. She gave a sugar-sweet giggle.   
  
"That's my knight!" She looked up happily at Fal. 


	3. Chapter 2

-Chapter 2- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
Later that night, Lothair informed Fal that the girl's name was Marle, and she never had many friends growing up. He then hired the "Knight" to be a babysitter of sorts. But his name would be discovered on Fal's own account, that way he can be familliar.   
  
It was Fal's intent to leave the morning after, so he slept soundly.  
  
There was a knock at his door that night.  
  
Fal rolled over to face the sound. "Mnnnnn...." He groaned. "...Come in..."  
  
The door creaked open, and in walked Lothair.  
  
"Brother?" He checked to see if he was still awake.  
  
"Mnn."  
  
"I need to talk to you about something." Lothair croaked.  
  
Fal was slow to reply. He groggishly pulled his abdomen into an upright position and wiped the sleep from his eyes. The cold night air stung his skin as he pulled the blankets up as far as they could go.  
  
"...What is it...?" He asked, half not interested.  
  
Lothair sat at the bottom of Fal's bed. He twiddled his large thumbs until he spoke.  
  
"The reason I asked you to come here..." He muttered. "...Was so that you could help me."  
  
Fal's uninterested eyes closed.   
  
"That's why I came to our family reunion." He dragged out. "To help you manage the kingdom."  
  
Lothair shook his head. "No. That's not it.", "I had you come here to help protect my daughter."  
  
Fal's eyes shot open. "Now why in God's name--"  
  
"Shhh!" Lothair hissed. "Let me explain." He began. "I know I can trust the 'Knight', but she needs more. She keeps telling me she can hear things in the darkness at night, and brother, you have to help her overcome her fear of the dark."  
  
Fal was silent.  
  
"Please!" Lothair begged.  
  
Fal waved his hand in front of his face. "Ah ah! I don't deal with children whether they be my brother's offspring, or my brother himself!"  
  
Lothair gave Fal a swift punch in the arm.  
  
"Ow!" He retorted. "What in--"  
  
"Don't be such an immature curr!" Lothair replied. "We both know that you have nothing to go back to after all this is over. You just have to stay with her during the night, and that is all!"  
  
Fal cradled his newly-bruised arm. Knowing that what he said was true, he agreed.  
  
"But why can't the 'Knight' stay with her?" Fal questioned.  
  
There was a brief silence.  
  
"He can't stay in the castle. He's buisy at night." Lothair grumbled. "Anyway, I'll leave you to get some sleep, my brother."  
  
And with that, he left the room and slowly closed the door behind him.  
  
Fal retreated back into the bed and slept again.  
  
T'was a cold morning as he made his way out of the cozy room onto the chilling stone floors to the Great Hall. Sitting at the table, Fal noticed that he was the only one with rosy cheeks and nose. He sniffled.  
  
All the family of his were there, as was the Knight and Marle.   
  
Fal slowly warmed to the idea of eating with family, but by the time this occured, he had left the table to dress. He did so, and leaving his room, he ran into Marle, who was feeling rather inquisitive. Her soft feet padded along side of his.  
  
"Why's your name Fal?" She asked "It's funny."  
  
Fal looked down at her.  
  
"My real name isn't Fal. 'Fal' is a nickname I was given in the Wars of the western cities, it's short for 'Falcon'." He replied.  
  
"Why'd they call you 'Falcon'?" Marle asked.  
  
Fal looked upwards and gave a perplexed look.  
  
"Perhaps because I was like a predator to them. I really don't know."  
  
It wasn't apparent to him why she was asking these questions.  
  
"What your real name?" She questioned.  
  
Fal cocked his head to the side and looked upwards again.  
  
"...Real name is William Riot." He replied.  
  
Marle giggled. "Willie Willie Willie!!" She cried in glee. "Your name is Willie!"   
  
Fal stared daggers at Marle.  
  
"Let's let that be... a secret. Between you and me." He tried to trick her into ceasing.  
  
Marle nodded. "Okay." She smiled. "So..."  
  
"When's your birthday?"  
  
"The twenty-eighth of the coldest month."  
  
"Have any kids?"  
  
"Two. They've grown up and gone."  
  
"What're their names?"  
  
"I don't remember."  
  
"That's sad. What's their mom's name?"  
  
"Don't remember either."  
  
"That's sad. You must know her name. Where do you live?"  
  
"In the desert."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Five thousand paces south from here."  
  
"That's a long way away. How will you get home?"  
  
"I can walk."  
  
"Oh. That sounds tiring. What's that?"  
  
She pointed to his side, obviously at his sword.  
  
"That's my sword."  
  
"That's dangerous."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Then why do you carry it around?"  
  
Fal stopped and looked at her.  
  
"Because a man needs a sword."  
  
Marle shook her head. "No he doesn't."  
  
Fal continued walking with her. He groweled in frustration as she pelted him with more questions that he didn't knw the anwsers to.  
  
Fal came to the front doors and stopped.  
  
"What're you gonna' do?" Marle asked.  
  
Fal rolled his eyes at how much a child could pester a man of his age. Already he was begining to feel stomach-sick at the very thought of more questions. He hoped this would be the last.  
  
"I'm going outside to think awhile." He replied.  
  
Marle let out a faint gutteral noise, but before it became any hint of a word Fal retorted.  
  
"Alone." 


	4. Chapter 3

-Chapter 3- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
He lay in a crumpled pile under a lone palm tree outside the castle gates. The kingdom was nothing but a castle surrounded by seemingly endless sands, but civilization was not more than two or quite possibly three hours away in any direction. It was remarkably easy to reach be it by foot or be it by steed. Trees stand scattered by the desert's grace wherever life lay.  
  
Fal slumped to his side and let out a tired groan. There was silence, and no movement but the whistling of the warm winds against the stone and leaf, but then the shuffling of feet could be heard by his restless ears.  
  
"What in the world are you doing out here, brother?" The low booming voice of Lothair signaled for Fal's attention.   
  
However he recognized the fatigued pile of brown cloak was anyone's guess at this point, and Fal indeed rolled over to meet his brother's worn boots and gave a melancholy expression towards his face.  
  
Lothair crouched down and smoothed the stray hair from Fal's face.  
  
"What's botherin' you?"  
  
Fal closed his weary eyes.  
  
"The questions, the bloody questions!" He pouted a moment, then continued. "You bastard, you didn't give birth to a human child, you had a devilish chattering parrot."  
  
Lothair laughed a hearty one.  
  
"That's jus' her way of warmin' up to you, ya' gotta' give her some time." He bellowed, then laughed again. "You're bein' a baby again." He teased.  
  
Then there was a strange sound, like the galloping of a horse.  
  
Fal quickly sat up, his ears searching for any hint of the sound.  
  
"You hear that?" Lothair asked him.  
  
Fal nodded.  
  
From accross the horizon came a black figure on a black horse, and quickly it ran to the front gates and stopped. It was a obsidian-cloaked man with a large hat that pointed in the front and back, the top shaped the outline of his head. There was also a large pearl on the side. Resting on the stranger's shoulders were two horn-like spikes that curved as they jutted out. His horse was unlike any that Fal had ever seen, it's muscular build was intimidating, and it's red eyes resembled those of the black rider's steed.  
  
It shuddered and it's rider climbed from it's back to meet Lothair.  
  
Lothair picked up his brother and set him on his feet. He shook the stranger's hand and they exchainged greetings. He then turned to Fal.  
  
"This is the Knight." Lothair introduced them.  
  
That day'd been a strange one on account of the Knight. There was hardly any sight of his face at times, and this had made Fal slightly interested in his affairs. Why was he so shrouded?  
  
When Fal ate, he ate near the Knight, stealing glances at his face. When Fal walked about the hallways, he walked near the Knight, trying his hardest to overhear a faint mutter that would escape his mouth. Quite interested was Fal.  
  
The night came fast, and the first assignment of the 'helping to protect the princess' was to accompany her in her sleep.  
  
"I am assuming that means I have to share a room with her tonight." Fal guessed.  
  
Lothair nodded. "Certainly, brother. Reassure her that there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of. You're good at that."  
  
Fal let that compliment roll off his back.   
  
Walking down the hallway, he heard a strange yet faint noise.  
  
He slowly opened Marle's room door.  
  
There she was, curled into a tiny ball, muttering the lord's prayer like a rattled maniac. Fal cocked his head back in confusion, for this was simply no way for a small child to act. Slowly and quietly, he crept over to her disfigured manner of sheets and tapped the quivering body.  
  
Marle quickly unfurlled, and glared fearingly at Fal. Her eyes were red from hours of crying, and numerous streams of tourtured tears were rolling down her porcelin cheeks. She sniffled.  
  
Fal knelt down to her elevation on the bed.  
  
"So..." He let out a tired sigh. "...Why're you crying?"  
  
Marle pouted and hiccuped. "There's a-- a-- a--"  
  
Then throwing her head back down, she bawled again.   
  
Now, if there was anything that bothered Fal as much as being asked questions, it was the crying/laughing of children. He strained his hands, and thought of a way to quiet her.   
  
Finally, he sat next to the sobbing pile of child.  
  
"Marle..." He whispered, clearing his throat.  
  
"...What?" The mound urked.  
  
"If you just tell me what's wrong, I can help you." Fal replied.  
  
Marle stirred, still unsure about her strange uncle. She rolled over to meet his gaze, but his almond eyes were shadowed by the ominous darkness in her room.   
  
"Really?" She asked, still sobbing.  
  
Fal nodded. "That's why I'm here."   
  
Marle shrugged to a sitting position and cast her gaze downward. Wiping her nose, she sighed.  
  
"...I'd really like a hug right now."  
  
Taking this as a suggestion, Fal guided her weakened frame to his and gave Marle a rough embrace. It was obvious to her now that he had not hugged many people in his life, nor had he been hugged.  
  
She was a bit surprised, but seeing this as a rare oppertunity, she lazily cast her tiny arms around his rigid ribs. Marle put her exhausted head against his soft chest and closed her eyes.  
  
She could hear his muffled heartbeat.  
  
Then there was a scratching noise from across the room.  
  
Fal's sensitive ears did not fail him; he heard it too. His head immediately turned to its source.   
  
Marle sat up again and whined, her orange curles swaying in front of her scared eyes.   
  
Fal shrugged her off him and stood, his hand clasping his rusty hilt.   
  
The scratching noise continued, getting louder and louder.  
  
A dark figure rose from the corner of Marle's room. It was slim, and its arms were long and disjointed, disfigured, and not human-like.  
  
Loud whimpers shot out of Marle as the being took shape. Noticing this, Fal turned to her.  
  
There was another body not unlike the other, seeping out of the wall next to the bed.  
  
Fal grabbed Marle's tiny hand and pulled her off the bed to his side.  
  
"Are these... creatures..." His glare raced back and forth between them, "...what's wrong at night?!"  
  
Marle once again broke down and started crying, wringing Fal's hand.   
  
"Stop that!" he shouted, "What in God's Earth do these things want from you?!"  
  
Marle hit the ground, letting out terrified screams and sobbs. Her tiny body was shaken.  
  
"Fine." He muttered.  
  
He brought up his left leg, and put it over the other side of Marle, and unsheathing his cracked sword, he swung at the nearest beast.  
  
It seemed to be cut, but at the very moment it was inside the brute, the creature turned to stone.  
  
Fal's eyes widened. His sword was stuck in a stone shadow protruding from the wall.   
  
He put his foot against the stone and tried desparately to haul his chipped sword out.  
  
There was a loud snapping noise, and Fal landed with a 'fump' behind Marle.  
  
He drew in a wide breath and brought his sword to the moonlight. It was completely snapped in half.  
  
Fal squeezed a small squeak out of his throat.  
  
The shadow by the door stepped out of the wall, and brought its disfigured arm over its 'head'.   
  
Fal gripped his remaining sword (it was sharper at the hilt anyway), and threw it at the monster.  
  
A long booming groan ensued, then a 'splurtch'. It's back arched, and out of the wound sprang black fountains of what seemed to be blood, showering Fal and Marle.   
  
The little girl let loose a horrific screech.  
  
Fal then quickly picked up the terrified child and rushed to the doorway.  
  
He threw Marle out into the stone hallway of the castle, but before he could follow suit, a long black object swung at Fal and struck him straight in the forehead.  
  
He lost counciousness, his body went limp, and he hit the floor like a hundred-fifty-pound log.  
  
Marle raced out the hall, crying and wailing to beat the devil, and she heard a door slam closed.  
  
Panting for air, she turned about.  
  
There was no-one in the hallway, and her room door was closed.  
  
She dropped to her knees, sobbing. 


	5. Chapter 4

-Chapter 4- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
The morning light revealed silvern beads in the webs of spiders, and its rays broke the darkness of the sand-ridden castle. Thus revealing a burly red-haired man slamming a door with his fist, and several others standing by, trying their best to be of service to the angry giant.   
  
"Open up, you bastard!!" He shouted at the top of his hoarse lungs.  
  
"Father..." Marle mumbled with a heavy heart.  
  
Lothair turned to her.  
  
"What is it?" He asked, impatiently. His voice was cracking from the perpetual shouting.  
  
Marle shook her head.  
  
Lothair turned back to the door, and gave it a hard slam with his fist. It shook, the only sign of movement since he started four hours earlier.  
  
"Ha!" He barked. "Stand back, everyone!"  
  
The small crowd shuffled away, as Lothair stood poised with his fist ready.   
  
WHAM!!!  
  
The door, as if it were not closed at all, very slowly opened, and wailed a long, quiet creak.  
  
Lothair and Marle peered in, their eyes adjusting to the dark.  
  
There, lying in the middle of the floor, was indeed Fal, his head turned to the side, revealing milky-white eyes that stared into nothingness. His chest rose and fell quickly and carefully, but other than that, there appeared to be no life within his body.  
  
Lothair hurried into the small room, and picked up his brother. Marle quickly followed him.  
  
He cradled Fal in his large arms.  
  
"Brother, can you hear me?" He desparately pleaded.   
  
Marle walked ahead of Lothair and stepped up onto her bed. She recovered the cracked and beaten blade of a sword, and walking to the corner closest to her door, collected its hilt.  
  
She brought its peices to her father.  
  
Lothair broke his gaze from his lifeless brother to the objects in Marle's hands.  
  
"What the devil is that?"  
  
"Fal's sword." She answered. "I told you about it."  
  
Moments later, Fal was put in Lothair's room, as his bed was the most comfortable in the castle. Lothair and Marle were left to discuss what it was that exactly happened.  
  
"I already told you the story." She recounted.  
  
Lothair nodded. "So all those times you said that something was in your room, you were telling the truth."  
  
Marle nodded vigorously. "You never did believe me."  
  
"Well, why didn't they attack you before?" He asked.  
  
"I dunno." She sugarly replied in confusion. "Maybe because there wasn't someone to protect me... They knew it wasn't fair."  
  
Lothair laughed. "I don't think so."  
  
He picked up the shards of Fal's sword.  
  
"My God, look how bloody terrible this blade is!" He ran his fingers along the edge. "This thing couldn't cut cloth!"  
  
Marle giggled. "You know what? I think he's poor."  
  
Lothair glanced at his daughter.  
  
"Now that's not a very nice thing to say!"  
  
"But it's true! He said he had a wife and kids of his own, but when I hugged him, it was like he'd never done it before in his life!" She retorted. "He's a bloody liar."  
  
Lothair gave a hearty laugh.   
  
"Maybe you're right. Maybe this sword-" he picked up the pieces for her to see, " is from when he fought in the western battles."  
  
"That's when people started calling him Fal." Marle added.  
  
"It certainly is. That was a long time ago..."   
  
Contemplation ensued.  
  
Marle snapped her fingers. "I know! We can figure out if he's lying if we can just get someone to fall in love with him..."  
  
Lothair laughed again.   
  
"You're just full of ideas that would torture that man, aren't you?"  
  
"No, I'm just saying! If we could, then she could find out for us if he really had a wife and stuff. People say a lot of things to their loves."  
  
Lothair dismissed the idea completely. "Leave me out of it."  
  
Marle whined. "Awww! C'mon! It'll be fun!" She tugged her father's sleeve.  
  
"Marle, you just can't 'get' people to fall in love with eachother." Lothair replied, uninterested and slightly annoyed.  
  
"Well, if she was pretty enough-"  
  
"Bein' pretty's got nothin' to do with it."  
  
"But my mom was pretty, wasn't she?"  
  
"That's a different story. She was nice, and she just happened to be pretty."  
  
"Well~, if she was nice enough, we could pay her!" Marle exclaimed.  
  
Lothair shook his head.  
  
"Nope. Nuh-uh, no way."  
  
Marle slapped her legs. "Could you just let me try it?"  
  
"Yer' playin' with my brother's emotions, here! No!" He retorted.  
  
"If he didn't fall in love with her, nobody else would have to know. So, pleeeeeeeeeease?" Marle pleaded.  
  
Her father slowly turned his glance to her. 


	6. Chapter 5

-Chapter 5- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
Fal half-heartedly rolled over inside his brother's sheetful bed. His eyes shot open as pain surged though him like water through a current. Quickly, he rolled back over on his back.  
  
Suddenly, he realized something.  
  
He couldn't see.  
  
All the while he had his eyes open, everything was obsidian.  
  
Panic took him, and he panted, gripping the sheets under him. He started to get up, but agony seized him once again, and he was put to the bed.  
  
Sweat from fear and hurt made him kick the heavy sheets off. Then he slowly calmed, realizing that there was nothing to be done.  
  
His fingers inched from his aching neck to his chest, down his waist, to his pounding legs.  
  
Sighing in relief that he was nowhere near paralyzed (he wiggled his toes to make sure), although parts of his body were indeed numb - the bottom of his chin, his armpits and inside of his arms, the insides of his legs, and his shins.  
  
Certainly not paralyzed, but numb indeed.  
  
But dispite this overwhelming anguish, Fal instructed himself to leave this room and have someone tell him what in the world happened.  
  
But there was no getting out of this room.  
  
How would he tell others that he was alive?  
  
The only way he knew how...  
  
A blood-curdling cry could be heard echoing through the halls of the castle, waking the sleeping guards and causing the maids to drop porcelin.   
  
Silence passed, then a husky, large man and a little curly-haired girl could be seen bolting down the hallway toward the master bedroom.  
  
From what Fal could hear, the wooden door flew open.  
  
Lothair and Marle scrambled to his side only to hear the stangled pleas of "Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Don't---"  
  
And that was the last he spoke before being crushed in the arms of his physically-belittling brother.  
  
What joy it must've been to have been in Fal's position at that point, for his pain was multiplied and so were his numb-spots.  
  
Lothair had heard the cracks and whimpers of his brother and, taking that as a hint, set him back into his bed.  
  
Both Lothair and Marle had noticed Fal's eyes, for they searched nothing, and weilded little color.  
  
"So, are you better?" Lothair asked.  
  
Fal faced the sound's origin.  
  
"Better?! I'm bloody blind, you fool!! Can't you leave me be for a moment?! My bones feel like they're hundreds of years old!!"  
  
Lothair laughed.  
  
Marle took Fal's hand.  
  
"Fal, can you tell me something?" She questioned.  
  
He urked a gutteral inquisitive noise.  
  
She took that as a 'yes'.  
  
"...What happened to you after you set me into the hallway?"  
  
Fal's eyebrows knotted. "Well... a black... thing... hit my head, and..."  
  
He trailed off.  
  
Marle pat his face. "What?"  
  
Fal shook his head.   
  
"I don't know."  
  
Many an hour later, Marle managed to coax Fal out of his father's bed and bring him about the castle halls.  
  
He heard the banging of hammers against wood.  
  
"What is it that I hear?" He asked.  
  
"That's the carpenters nailing my door shut."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Then they entered the kitchen.  
  
"Now we're in the kitchen. You want something to eat, Fal?"  
  
"No, thank you. I'm not feeling any bit hungry at the moment..."  
  
There was a crunching noise.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"I'm eating an apple. You want one?"  
  
"I told you I wasn't hungry."  
  
There was more walking, then they stopped.  
  
"What's happening?"  
  
"Nothing. I want you to meet someone."  
  
"How can I meet someone when I'm as blind as a worm?!"  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"Well, I'd expected a bit of a nicer introduction..." A velvety voice cooed.  
  
Fal swallowed. "What? Marle!" He grasped the girl's hand.  
  
"There's no need to get all uppity about it!" The familliar toddler's voice broke the silence. "This is Hana."  
  
She brought his hand up to someone else's, and whoever it was, shook it.  
  
"Hana, this is Fal."  
  
"Nice to meet you, Fal. I take it that's not your real name." Her creamy voice was thoroughly unfamilliar.  
  
Fal shook his head in disbelief. "What in... Marle, what's the meaning of this?"  
  
Marle giggled.  
  
He put his other hand on his hip. "Marle, how am I supposed to..."  
  
Hana cleared her throat.  
  
"Mister Fal, you don't need sight to see me." Her deep voice retorted.  
  
She brought his hand to her face.  
  
"If you feel me, you can make a mental picture of what I look like."  
  
A strange snake-like warmth crawled through Fal's body, making him extremely uncomfortable.  
  
He wretched his hand away from her face.  
  
"Excuse me madam, but if you have any manners at all, you wouldn't be doing that."   
  
He could feel heat radiating from his neck, as he realized he was blushing.  
  
Marle figured this as well, and she knew inside that her plan was working. Although it probably would've worked better if he could see.  
  
Well, besides that, she was creating a relationship between them, and that was her goal. 


	7. Chapter 6

-Chapter 6- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
In the main hall, the residents of the castle were settling down for their supper, and Fal was none too pleased to hear that a certain little girl and mysterious woman would be sitting on either sides of him. He wasn't hungry, he'd already stated, but his brother had assured him that he was not about to wander around the castle with no form of sight to call his own.   
  
So, he sat with the family.  
  
Marle and Hana talked like electrified parrots to Fal, who sluggishly anwsered questions monosyliballically.   
  
"Marle." Fal interrupted. "Could you calm your mouth for a moment, and tell me something?"  
  
Marle could hear his fingers scraping the table as he tapped them, so rather then angering him, she nodded.  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
"Yes." She replied.  
  
"Alright. Can one of you please tell me what this lady 'Hana' looks like? I find it hard to talk to her at the moment."  
  
Hana gave a light laugh.  
  
"I'll tell you."   
  
Fal relaxed a small bit and sighed a long sigh, sitting back in his chair.  
  
"Let's see... I have long black hair that reaches my elbows. Umm... I''m about as tall as you, around the same build, except I'm obviously healthier. I'm not going to comment on things you don't want to know, because I know now how it makes you." She paused to laugh. "My nose is kind of small, my ears are... uh... small too..." He could tell by her tone that she wasn't lying.  
  
"What are you a mouse, or a rabbit, or something of the sort?" He retorted angrily.  
  
Hana giggled. "No, silly! I'm perfectly human! It's just that I have smaller facial qualities. Oh, and my mouth isn't as big as yours either."  
  
Fal shook his head. He didn't think she was very nice at all.  
  
After what seemed to be an eternity of comparison between he and Hana, Fal felt he had a pretty good visual concept of her. He was dragged away from his torturous encounter by his brother.  
  
"Hey, come 'ere a second will you?" Lothair took Fal by the arm away from the table.  
  
"It seems I have no other choice. What is it?" Replied Fal.  
  
His brother had left him for a moment, then came back.  
  
"Brother, I want you to see something." He spoke with confidence.  
  
Fal squeaked. "I think you don't remember--"  
  
THOCK!!  
  
A metal bar hit Fal square in the forehead, sending him off his feet.  
  
He landed on his backside with a 'thump'.  
  
"OWW!!!" He shouted in pain. "What in God's green Earth was that for?!!"  
  
Fal's hand clapped the growing bump on his head.  
  
He opened his welling eyes to see blood dripping from his hand.  
  
Then it hit him --- he could see!  
  
Fal gave a look of pure confoundment.  
  
"How did--" He managed to mutter.  
  
Lothair gave a big, hearty laugh once again. He picked up his brother and set him to his feet.  
  
"I'd like an explanation!!" Fal shouted.  
  
There was another laugh from his sibling.  
  
"You should've known, you fool. Your blindness was a curse!"  
  
Fal urked. "What?"  
  
Lothair slapped his hand to his face.   
  
"Blunt as a bloody hammer..." He mumbled. "...We figured that your blindness was a curse because of how you never said you were in pain."  
  
Fal urked again. How'd he know that?  
  
"Anyway, I got up with the idea that if we hit you with the same force that made you blind, your sight would return."  
  
Fal urked louder. "You went by a jist alone?!"  
  
Lothair shrugged. "Well, yeah. If you would put it that way."  
  
Then he noticed a shadowy character next to Lothair. It stepped out from the darkness.  
  
"Oh, and you have that bump on your head thanks to him." Lothair pointed at the figure.  
  
It was the Knight. He dropped a heavy metal pole to the ground.   
  
Fal glanced at the black-clad being. He was tall, his hair was long, curly, and brown, and his pale skin reminded Fal of the stories he had heard as a child about the living dead and whatnot.   
  
His face was long and undisturbed of blemishes, and his eyes were perpetually half-closed and actually quite beautiful.  
  
He had many questions for the Knight, but his first would be to ask him his real name.  
  
The Knight's curved mouth turned to a smile.  
  
And in a low, silky tone, he ceased to repress one letter;  
  
"D." 


	8. Chapter 7

-Chapter 7- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
Still unused to the idea of sight, Fal bumped into several objects; walls, people, whatnot. His intention was to avoid Marle and Hana, because with the gift to see, he knew not whether Hana was beautiful. He did not want to fall for anyone, no matter who. With this in mind, he followed D and Lothair to the metalworks in the basement of the castle.   
  
It was a dark room with several firepits, weapons hung on the walls, tools strewn madly about in the blackness.   
  
With difficulty, Fal followed his brother and the knight to the firepit in the middle of the large space. There was a young man sitting to the side of it, rust smeared on his right cheek, and sweat dripping from his slightly-bearded chin. He was fine-looking, and reminded Fal of a blacksmith he had met many years ago who forged his old sword when he lived by the waterside near the south-west. The smith was no more than twenty-five when he was attacked by a mad Pirate. Only God knew whether he was alive or dead.   
  
Those thoughts quickly left Fal's mind when he was given the task of introducing himself to the boy. Fal slightly shook his head.  
  
"My name is Fal." He replied, careful not to tell him his name was really 'Willy', or anything of that nature.   
  
The Blacksmith gave a light laugh.  
  
"I remember you, Fal." He replied to a very confused and angry looking-man.  
  
Lothair laughed loudly.  
  
"You bloody moron!"  
  
Fal was confused. "What is this about?"  
  
Lothair took his hand and slapped it together with the blacksmith's.  
  
"It's Turner! The smith from the west?"  
  
Fal sharply turned his head to the boy. "I thought you were killed by a Pirate!"  
  
The boy shook his hand. "No, sir!" His thick british accent washed over his speech and he looked quite guilty, speaking with quiet words unmolested by other's judgement.   
  
"...Fought with one of my own swords. So I hear that the one I gave you so long ago was mal-treated." A look of 'I'm sorry' spilled unto the young-man's face.   
  
Fal's face very slightly twisted in an emotion very similar to anger as it does many times.   
  
"So please tell me why I'm here." He released his grip from the boy's hand.   
  
Turner blinked irratically and swallowed, looking down at his handiwork. "I started making a sword for you again..."  
  
Fal bent over the black anvil, inspecting the weapon prepared   
  
It was an in-work Scimitar; a sword with a broad curved blade, its edge running none-too-smoothly along the outside arch. It's hilt was very plain, not extravagent in any subtle way at all.   
  
"So what do you think?" The smith asked.  
  
Fal crinkled his nose in disgust. "It looks like a flattened banana. But I'd have to use it in order to give a final appraisal."  
  
Turner forced a sad and tired smile. He nodded and turned back to the sword, raised his hammer and struck the blade's edge, giving it more of a shape.  
  
Fal turned to leave, but was stopped by Lothair grabbing his arm.  
  
"Ey, brother. Why don't ya' give the sword a name?"   
  
Fal turned back around. "Name?"  
  
Lothair nodded, his shaggy red hair frothing back and forth.  
  
"Ya' name yer' blade, don't ya'?" He asked.  
  
Fal hummed an unsure grumble. "Certainly, but I've only owned one real sword in my life, and now it's broken in two."  
  
"What'd you call it?"  
  
"My sword..." He recalled the chipped, blunt, rusted flank of metal in a black pigskin sheath. "...was called Sarabande."  
  
Lothair clapped his hands together. "Great! Well enough, name yer' new one!"  
  
Fal shrugged. His mind raced through names, none of them seemed appropriate. He put the back of his fingers against the ridge of his throat and thought more.   
  
"I'm not sure."  
  
Lothair jerked the top half his body back. "Ya' gotta' be kidding me! Well your first one was called 'Sarabande', so maybe something like that?"  
  
Turning his head to the side and inward, Fal scraped the back of his head for ideas.  
  
"How about... Fandango?"   
  
Lothair clapped again. "Creative! I knew you could do it!"   
  
"Alright then, I'll be going." Fal turned about and coughed, then left.  
  
Having a new sword really didn't concern Fal much as he walked back up the stairs of the basement to the main floor. He was no longer going to fight monsters in Marle's room, nor was he about to fight in any war. He really didn't need one, and as he thought about it, it became more and more apparent to him.   
  
He passed a corner in the main hallway, and bumped into someone.   
  
"Sorry." he lied.  
  
"Aw, I know you're not sorry." A familliar sultry voice poured to his ears.   
  
Fal's eyes widened as he slowly drew his face toward the sound.   
  
There standing in front of him was a woman, about as tall as he, long black hair, and weilding a build not unlike his own. Her nose and lips here small, and very pretty. Violet eyes that would reflect any kind soul were hers, and she stared at him with a honey-sweet smile.   
  
"Hana!" Fal creaked. He recognized her from the not-so-in-depth description. Of course, this was more like a guess.  
  
The woman grinned and put her head to the side.  
  
"Yup. So you got your sight back."  
  
"I was hit in the--"  
  
"I know. I half-came up with the idea."  
  
Fal croaked in shock. She musn't really care about him that much. But why was he thinking that way anyway?  
  
"What are you doing here?" He shrugged his disgust back on.  
  
Hana giggled. "Looking for you. Wouldn't want you lost, now."  
  
Fal gave an expression of repugnance. He cast her aside and walked on his way to the main hall.  
  
She caught up with him and tugged at his arm.  
  
"Hey Fal, tell me your real name, will you?"  
  
Fal gave a wide-eyed and angry glance, his bottom jaw protruding an inch from his top, which caused his lower lip to pout.   
  
"No."  
  
Hana waved a hand in front of her face. "I already know it. Marle told me. I just wanted to know if you'd trust me with any of your secrets."  
  
Fal just ignored her.  
  
"Anyway, if you won't trust me with even your name, I won't bother you anymore." Hana simply put.  
  
Fal relaxed, and kept walking. "Good." 


	9. Chapter 8

-Chapter 8- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
"I don't understand him at all." Hana confessed to Marle. They were alone in her room, discussing late events.  
  
"He's as cold as a long-dead beast in the far north, and about as untouchable as a double-edged sword with no hilt. How in the world do you expect me to warm up to a perpetually frowning and constantly disgusted animal?"  
  
Marle knotted her eyebrows and gave a slight smile. "Well, I don't know..."  
  
Hana shook her head vigorously.  
  
"At least I'm getting paid for this. When's the next payday?"  
  
"Um... Tomorrow, I think." Marle replied.  
  
"Alright. We need a plan." Hana suggested. "Hrm."  
  
Marle spoke up. "Well it said on your resume that you were a specialist of ne... neur..." She trailed off, looking for the right pronounciation.  
  
"Neurological Study."  
  
"Right. So... use that. Or something."  
  
"Okay, so let's think of him as a puzzle. We just gotta' put it together right and get inside his head... What does he find attractive, anyway?"  
  
Marle gave a look of obliviousness. "How should I know?"  
  
They thought for a while, then Marle realized something.  
  
"You know when you put his hand to your face?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I don't think he found that very comfortable...!" And with that, Marle burst into a fit of giggling.   
  
Strangely enough, Marle was right. She hardly knew this man, and with the whiff of a golden coin, his emotions could be played with to no avail. And although he played no part in this false cherub heart-striking, Lothair, Fal's closest family member, knew of this plan. He made no effort to end it, though, and this was on guilty cause of his curiosity of his brother's whereabouts these past years. He was as elusive as a snake, and kept his disposition well hidden under a veil of petrified disgust. A lover, it seemed, was impossible, but alas Lothair believed in the efforts put forward by his daughter and the perseverant Hana. She was beautiful, and her rough-cut personality may just be enough to let her enter William's dreary heart. In a way, Lothair was involved.  
  
Certainly, he was.  
  
More than he realized, it seemed, as he was the one fueling Hana's budget and discluding himself from the short hallways where they met. He felt guilty, but there was no harm in trying.  
  
Hana's black hair flowed from her shoulder. She had mentally prepared to face Fal that day, and she had a sword at her side to accompany her. Being a freelance "Adventurer", she had training in many platforms of work, including swordfighting. Her plan was to fight him, and gain his respect. No matter how difficult.  
  
Hana trotted down the hallway, her rawhide leather boots sifting against the stone floors.  
  
She searched for Fal, and finding him lying in his bedroom, staring at the celing.   
  
He turned to her.  
  
"...And what in God's name are you doing here?" He bluntly questioned.  
  
Hana confidently smiled and replied "Looking for you, Fal. I want to ask you a question."  
  
He rolled over and gave her a quizzical look.  
  
"What?" He asked in apathy.  
  
She had never realized it before, but Fal's frame was little like her's, at least when he laid down.  
  
He was thin like her, but deadly unhealthy but steady. He had been like this before, Hana could tell from the lack of tiredness in his eyes.  
  
"...How would you feel about swordfighting me?"  
  
Fal expressed annoyance. "Not well. I wouldn't want to kill you." And with that, he eyed her appearance, and the sword by her side.  
  
"What's that?" He asked.  
  
Hana turned to her side. "Oh this?" She unsheathed the blade a tiny bit. It was fairly new, but slighly worn. Fal couldnt've told whether it was actually her's or not.   
  
"It could be yours... through your heart." She subtly laughed and drew it out fully. It shone in the candle-light.  
  
Fal gave little sign of impression.   
  
"So are you going to fight me?" Hana sheathed her sword. "Yours is there, I notice."  
  
She looked to his shelf. On its top was a very well-crafted scimitar in a lovely scabbard, just begging to be swung.  
  
Fal rolled over again, mumbling. Seeing that there was no other way for her to draw him out, Hana quickly took her sword out of its hiding and pointed it toward Fal.  
  
"If you don't fight me, I swear I'll tell ev'ry man woman and child that your name is 'Willy Riot'."  
  
There was a pause, then Fal sighed. "That's blackmail, you know..."  
  
"I don't care!" Hana pleaded. "Either that, or I'll call you 'Willy'. Better yet, I'll do both!"  
  
There was a silence.  
  
"WILLY!!" Hana shouted at the man on the bed.  
  
He cringed.   
  
Hana put her sword away once more. Then finally, Fal rolled to his feet off the bed and walked over to his shelf.  
  
He picked up the sword on its top. "Fine." 


	10. Chapter 9

-Chapter 9- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
There was a request to clear the main hall, and it was confirmed. Fal and Hana stood in the middle of it's grand airy opening, and unsheathed their swords. Hana stood several meters away from him, her sword infront of her with one hand, the other was spread open three inches away from her wrist. Her knees were bent, and her feet sat shoulder-length apart.  
  
Fal stood with his knees very slightly bent, his right hand holding the Fandango in front of him, his left held horizontally against his back.  
  
"If I hurt you, don't you dare hold me responsible. This is all on your behalf." Fal barked.  
  
Hana nodded and giggled. "How about we wager something."  
  
That sounded rather repulsive to Fal.  
  
"What?" He asked, unsure.  
  
"If I beat you," Hana smiled. "...you have to kiss me."  
  
Fal spat and urked. "On my deathbed, wench."  
  
Hana laughed. "And if you beat me?"  
  
"...You leave this castle, and forget you ever met me." Fal retored.  
  
"Mnn, alright." Agreed Hana. She was prepared for this anyway.  
  
"Get ready!" She called to him.  
  
She charged at him and flung her sword at his head. He successfully defended it and counter-struck. She was quick to the draw, though, and her skills did not fail her as she retarted his blade with hers and countered his counter. And as quick as a whip, Fal's shoulder was cut open, letting blood plip to the floor. He was silent as he drew back, feeling the refreshing sting of pain sear through his body like a sobering poison. Fal subconciously rejected the caressing of such a feeling, but it was a welcome sign that he was alive. He shuddered.  
  
Hana charged again, this time at his chest. The clanging of blades shattered the morning air as the two warriors fought with the quickness and strength of any devil in Hell. Fal took many strikes, the butt of her sword impounded against his temple, a slash against his leg, a deep cut in his shoulder, not to mention countless bruises about his being. Hana, surprisingly, had nothing but a few bruises. Fal had been careful not to cause her any injury, but there was little he could do but try to tire her out, dragging the fight on for what seemed to be hours. What Fal did not realize in time was that Hana wielded boundless vigor and determination. She stayed fresh while with every strike, Fal's concentration was pounded and destroyed, leading him to stagger to the wall behind him. He struggled for air as his fate was sealed. If he did not want to hurt her, he was going to be hurt, and oddly enough, he embraced this truth. As he sat, slumped against the stone with his blood smearing upon it, he was deeply confused by his thought patterns so close to exhaustion. He didn't want to hurt her. Had he gotten soft? Maybe that wasn't it...  
  
"You aren't trying." Hana revealed.   
  
"I know. I just don't..." Fal trailed off, huffing. "This isn't going as I thought..."  
  
Hana shook her head and smiled.   
  
"If you don't want to hurt a woman, I respect that. You could have told me, though."  
  
Fal grumbled. He recalled the conversation in his room, and if he wasn't mistaken, it wasn't his idea in the first place. Hana had been the only one of them who was energetic about his buggered situation.  
  
Hana nodded. "Well I'm sorry."  
  
Fal frowned and sluggishly stood, locking his clean sword into its scabbard. He clutched his bloody shoulder and began to hobble away.  
  
"Waitasecond!" Hana shouted.  
  
Fal growled at the very thought of her remembering their deal.   
  
"...Let me help you." She walked over to him and slipped under his un-bloodied arm.   
  
Hana then aided his limping to his room, then set him on his bed. She left briefly, returning with bandages and whatnot to ease his scarring. Soon his blood was cleaned away, his cuts covered neatly. Fal lay with his eyes closed, listening to the humming of his caretaker when she spoke to him.  
  
"I'm done. Your injuries should be fully healed in a couple of days." She then bent over him and brushed his stray bangs away from his forehead.   
  
The deal was once again brought to Fal's mind.   
  
"Don't you even dare."  
  
Hana shot back. "I... I wasn't planning to." She assured his respect for her.   
  
She then left the room. 


	11. Chapter 10

-Chapter 10- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
The next day, Fal crept out of his room, bandages on his arms and legs. He looked towards the exit of the castle.  
  
Too long had he been kept there on account of his brother. The night-terrors were as taken-care-of as they would ever be to him, and this mysterious woman named Hana was embarassing him and hurting his pride far more than he could bear.   
  
Like a child from an abusive parent, Fal would run away. And now seemed as good a time as ever.  
  
He made a run for the door.  
  
"FREEZE!!"  
  
Fal stopped dead in his tracks. He turned.  
  
Lothair was standing in the hall, arms crossed.  
  
"Yer' not gettin' away that easily, brother!" He shouted at him, smiling.  
  
Fal's eyes narrowed. "...What's the meaning of this? Keeping me here longer than I'm due."  
  
Lothair walked over to him.  
  
"You know what? I don't know." Lothair crudely grumbled to him with a devilish grin.  
  
"Liar!" Fal stubbed his finger against his brother's thick chest. "And who is Hana, really? Why is it that she wants to torture me to no end?!"  
  
Laughing heartily, Lothair heavily patted Fal's back.   
  
"Fal, I want you to sleep in Marle's room again." He suggested, ignoring his question.  
  
"What?!" The smaller man retorted. "You're mad!! Never have I seen anything like those shadows in Marle's room! You wouldn't be able to send me back in there with a thousand of the Lord's prayers branded into my flesh!! Never!!"  
  
Lothair shook his head. "I really don't care whether you want to or not! If those creatures exist, there must be numbers of them coming from somewhere, and I want to know where! If suddenly they decided to strike the castle, we would be taken in a matter of hours. There is no way of predicting it."  
  
"Why me?" Fal questioned.  
  
"Because you're the one they attacked. You know what they're capable of. Please, brother! I need you to do this! Just this once."  
  
"Just this once?! I took care of your daughter and got blind from it! What fate would befall me if I were to face this enemy head-on? I will surely be killed!"  
  
Fal took a deep breath from all his arguing.  
  
Lothair sighed. "Don't make me guilt you into it or use blackmail... That seems to be the only way to get you to do anything for me. Brother, please, don't make me use force..."  
  
Fal couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Force?! What, are you going to strike me if I don't follow your orders?"  
  
"Don't be childish." Lothair's speech was hard and cold.  
  
Standing back, Fal realized what this was all about. He was in this all just to be used. Or so it seemed.  
  
"...I refuse to go alone."  
  
Lothair relaxed at this comment. "Hm. That can be arranged. Who is it that you want to take with you?"  
  
Fal thought. Marle would be useless... D apparently had "business" during the night... There was no way of conning Lothair to spend a night in a tiny dark room...  
  
"...Hana?" Fal heard his voice echo against the stone walls and realized how incredibly lecherous the suggestion sounded.  
  
Lothair laughed hard. "Hana? Are you serious?"  
  
"She is the only person who would."  
  
"I know, I know." He giggled. "...Just caught me by surprise..."   
  
Fal began to stalk away.  
  
"She loves you, you know." Lothair told him.  
  
He turned.  
  
"Should I care?" 


	12. Chapter 11

-Chapter 11- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
Marle's room, once the boards were removed from the entrance, revealed an intoxicating stench of blood and musky dust.  
  
Lothair, Marle, Fal, Hana, and D stood in front of it's doorway, inspecting it away fron harm's reach. At the smell, D stiffened like a board. He tapped Lothair's shoulder.  
  
"...Sir, I need to be away from this place immediately."  
  
Lothair could smell it too, letting D know he understood.   
  
"Aye, D. You can go. Marle and I 'll be in the main quarters in a moment."  
  
D nodded. He walked off, whispering to his left hand.   
  
Fal watched him.  
  
"...He's an awfully strange fellow."  
  
Lothair nodded. "He's got some secrets. Anyway, are you gonna' secure the perimeter, or what?"  
  
Fal unsheathed the Fandango. "Hmph."  
  
He beckoned Hana to follow him, she revealed her sword as well.  
  
The air from inside the room hit them like a wall, it was not something easily accepted as oxygen...  
  
Fal stepped across the untidy place. It was dark and familliar, but after a few minutes of searching, he deemed it safe. It was getting dark by then, so Lothair and Marle said goodnight and left.  
  
Fal lit a candle and rested it on the bedtable.  
  
Seeing this as an opportunity to get to know Fal, Hana walked over to him.  
  
"So... What do we do now?" She asked him.  
  
Fal shook his ginger head.  
  
Hana sheathed her sword. "...You know, I'm not just some wench looking for someone to sleep with."  
  
Fal put away his sword also. "I have no intention of suggesting anything of that sort."  
  
Hana laughed. "That's not what I meant! I thought you suspected that I was trying to... Oh nevermind..." She put her hand to her head. "...But then again... There must have been some reason you wanted me here. Why?"  
  
Fal sat on Marle's bed.  
  
"...You are a respectable swords...woman. If I had a choice, I would have taken D... but unfortunately, all but you were buisy during the night."  
  
"Oh, I see. It's just convienient that I'm here."  
  
"I suppose you could say that."  
  
Fal lay on Marle's bed.  
  
Hana looked about. "...Where am I supposed to sleep?"   
  
Fal opened one eye.  
  
"...The floor seems fine."  
  
Hana laughed in disbelief.  
  
"Oh, c'mon!" She sat on the bedside. "That's not fair in the least bit!"  
  
Fal turned over. "Suit yourself."  
  
Hana stiffly led down on the small stretch of matress Fal left for her. She was soon frustrated at how uncomfortable she was, and it was also beginning to be quite cold.  
  
She shivered and half-heartedly turned over.  
  
"Fal...?" She whispered. "...Are you awake?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"...I guess not..." She thought.  
  
Hana raised her hand over his waist. A man of his age must be warm...  
  
She put her arm around him, and held herself against his back.  
  
Warm, yes.  
  
Hana pressed her ear against him. She could barely make out a muffled heartbeat.  
  
Perhaps he was cold too.  
  
Hana held him close, and tried her best to share body heat with him. 


	13. Chapter 12

-Chapter 12- (The Old Kingdom - Riot of the Blood Kyo)  
  
The morning came bearing sunlight and the songs of birds outside.  
  
Fal turned his face upwards and strained to keep his eyes closed to the coming light from the window.  
  
Plip. A cold liquid dripped on his face.  
  
Fal's eyes shot open.   
  
There on the ceiling was something dark... He could hardly see it, but Fal could see that it was a dark pool resembling blood.  
  
Thinking this extremely odd, Fal's eyebrows knotted, and he turned towards Hana.  
  
She was gone.  
  
Instead, in her place was a rotting corpse, looking nothing like Hana at all.  
  
Fal's heart pounded.   
  
He sat up and clasped the handle of his sword, waiting for some sign of movement.  
  
But there was nothing.  
  
The black substance dripped off the ceiling on the corpse and the bed where Fal had lain, but nothing happened.  
  
Fal unsheathed the Fandango and looked over the body.   
  
It was a man, middle-aged, had little hair on his head, and reaked of death and decay.  
  
Fal realized that it was safe to assume that it would not come back to life, so he kicked it off the bed.  
  
It landed with a thump/crack on the floor.  
  
...Where was Hana?  
  
Fal stood up, hopping off the bed over the body.   
  
"...You know, you shouldn't step over someone..." He heard a screeching voice from somewhere.  
  
Fal froze. If it wasn't the laughing/crying of children or being asked questions, it was the undead that bothered him.  
  
He turned towards the body.   
  
"...Who are you?" Fal asked sternly.  
  
"Me?" The corpse's teeth chattered in amusement.  
  
It's eyes rolled open, revealing large black pupils that glared happily at Fal. A sort of happiness not everyone in the room took part in.  
  
Fal swallowed. "...Yes."  
  
The body stood dyslexicly, bones snapping back into place here and there.   
  
Fal held his sword close to himself.   
  
"...Why, my name is Cardonia!" The corpse's grey skin shuddered.  
  
Sweat beaded upon Fal's forehead. "...What do you want?" He asked, unsure if he wanted the anwser.  
  
"Let's see..." Cardonia's speech trailed somewhere, "Perhaps I'd like a new body and a plate of caviar to the general."   
  
Fal opened his mouth to retort, but was cut silent by the talking corpse.  
  
"Oh! Now I know! As obvious as this might sound," he licked his lips,"...how about your flesh? It's lovely slightly roasted caucasion tone is absolutely..."   
  
The sound of sucking back saliva and dry swallowing aired from Cardoina's crumbling mouth.  
  
"...Exquisite."  
  
There was a horrid tone of ravenousness in his voice that made Fal very uncomfortable.   
  
Taking all this talk of his skin as a hint, Fal proceeded to fling open the door and run outside the room.  
  
What sight that greeted him then was completely unexpected.  
  
He hit a railing that was about waist-high, causing him to slightly bend over it. He was then forced to face the scenery below.  
  
A pool of blood, not merely a puddle of it displaced on the floor below, but the whole hall opened up into a small spring of it.   
  
The red substance bubbled and spurt as minions of the undead stood around it, as if waiting for something to reveal itself from within. Sweat dripped from Fal's brow as he stared into the room preceeding the fencing he lay upon.  
  
A scaly, pale hand tightly grasped the tendons of Fal's right arm, causing him to gasp in pain.  
  
He then felt a cold body next to his.  
  
SPLASH!!  
  
The Fandango hit the surface of the pool of crimson beneath, causing the minority of souless creatures to groan in surprise and scatter slowly.  
  
Fal was turned around by the being, meeting face-to-face with him.  
  
The creature, Cardonia, began to brush his rotting lips along the super-sensitive skin of his throat.   
  
"Oh, no you don't..." Fal muttered. He clasped Cardoina's deteriorating arm (which was holding his) and wretched it with all his might towards the banister.  
  
It snapped in half due to it's state of decay, letting Fal free to run from Cardonia.  
  
Cardonia stared in disbelief as he sprinted from his captivity, soon realizing that his hand was gone.  
  
As Fal scrambled down stairs leading to the pool, he heard the angry screaming of the handless zombie signaling for the creatures below to attack.   
  
Dodging scrapes and lunges by the other animated corpses, he scampered to the ruby water-side, and dunked his hand inside to retreive his blade.  
  
Finding nothing but a strange sensation slowly crawling up his limb, Fal quickly pulled his hand out and continued to jump into the blood feet-first to look for his precious sword.   
  
He looked up at the beings around the pool to regard their advances.  
  
They did nothing.  
  
They stood, staring at the hodgepodge man waist-deep in the scarlet liquid.  
  
Fal slowly dipped in his arm, and picked the sword from the bottom of the basin, readying it in front of him.  
  
"Haaa haaa haaaaaa!! You moron!"  
  
Fal heard the distant voice of Cardonia.  
  
"What? What is this about?" Fal shouted back.  
  
"Do you fail to see what it is you are standing in?"  
  
"Blood, it seems! But what is this about?"  
  
"The blood you stand in," Cardonia began with a chuckle, " is the resting place of our lord, who is quite unforgiving to the likes of you!"  
  
Fal sharply checked the red waters surrounding his waist.  
  
"...I see no lord greater than mine. Cut your foolishness and tell me where Hana is!"  
  
Cardonia let a terrifying cackle escape from his lungs.  
  
"Hana? I wouldn't worry about her! I think the question is--"  
  
"Shut-up and anwser me, you pile of flesh and bone!!"  
  
All was silent.  
  
Fal began to feel very unsafe, standing in the 'resting place of their lord'.  
  
He held the Fandango tightly, ready to strike anything that moved.  
  
More silence.  
  
Fal's breathing became irratic.  
  
"...W-where is this?" He asked Cardoina in particular.  
  
"Oh? This?" The fly-ridden body questioned. "This is what you humans would consider the sub-terranian world beneath yours. Some would call it 'Hell', but many more know the difference. Hell is far more worse than we."  
  
"How can I get back?"  
  
"Hmm... I'm not sure. I've never been outside these walls!" This was followed by a rueful laugh.  
  
Fal looked towards the reflective blade of the Fandango.  
  
"If you won't tell me..." He whispered into the sword, "...Then maybe your lord will." 


	14. Legalities

Alright. What all you legal snoops were looking for.  
  
Legalities... yay...  
  
WARNING!! If you have yet to read the story, and wish for it to be unspoiled for you, DO NOT READ THIS YET!  
  
Now that that is out of the way...  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Vagrant Story, the family name "Riot", and all other related elements (unless otherwise stated) are Squaresoft's. Well, Squarenix now...  
  
The characters; William "Fal/Falcon" Riot, Lothair Riot, and Hana Siharimasada are copyright of me (Riot of the Blood Kyo). If you wish to use them in a story, give me credit, inform readers of this work of fiction, and e-mail me a copy of your story.  
  
It is all appreciated.  
  
The "Cadaver Clan", as they are nicknamed, are copyright of Thinktank Productions. If you wish to use them in a story, the same is considered with the above characters (mine).  
  
The character; Marle (in this story, her name is Marle Riot) belongs to Squaresoft, 1995. Her original design is by Akira Toriyama. By all means, she is much younger in this story than in Chrono Trigger.  
  
The character; Vampire Hunter D (just reffered to as D, ot the "Knight") is copyright 2001 Filmlink International/Hideyuki Kikuchi/Asahi Sonorama/Vampire Hunter D Production Commitee.  
  
And that's it for now! 


	15. Footnotes

You might be asking yourself (or me), "What in the world are footnotes?"  
  
Well footnotes are what they are -- notes! Left by the author (me) for readers to give an extra-insight on jokes or refrences in the story.  
  
I'll be going through the story chapter by chapter.  
  
WARNING! If you haven't read the story yet, don't read these! They are packed with spoilers!  
  
...I'm really serious!  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 1  
  
=====================================================  
  
"He slowly drew his rust-ruined hand from underneath the wretched cloth..."  
  
-This gives the idea that he's been holding something rusty. What is it? It's his sword, the  
  
crappy-est peice of forged metal on earth.  
  
"Fal, not quite familliar with children..."  
  
-Not familliar with children? I wonder why... (Hint: He's not used to being around women, either!)  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 2  
  
=====================================================  
  
"...Fal noticed that he was the only one with rosy cheeks and nose."  
  
-Being the only one there not used to the cold, I would assume.  
  
"'Fal' is a nickname I was given in the Wars of the western cities..."  
  
-For all those who really want to know, I came up with this name in the school bathroom. Really.  
  
"...Real name is William Riot." He replied."  
  
-Keeping in the spirit of the Shakespeare feel in Vagrant Story, I called him William. Who is William, you ask? What? You don't even know?  
  
"Willie Willie Willie!!" She cried in glee. "Your name is Willie!"   
  
-This is a refrence to something my brother was called in the Navy. They'd all get together and sing "Little Willy Willy won't go home". What a bunch of jerks.  
  
"The twenty-eighth of the coldest month."  
  
-This would be December 28th, making him a Capricorn.  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 3  
  
=====================================================  
  
"...be it by foot or be it by steed."  
  
-This steed was usually Chocobos.  
  
"...muttering the lord's prayer like a rattled maniac."  
  
-A lot of the characters in this story are extremely religious, to keep the feeling of Vagrant Story constant. More examples of this are later on in the story.  
  
"What in God's Earth do these things want from you?!"  
  
-Come to think of it, Fal is probably the most religious one there.  
  
"...like a hundred-fifty-pound log."  
  
-Around 150 lbs at 5'5".  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 4  
  
=====================================================  
  
Nothing there to mention...  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 5  
  
=====================================================  
  
"Better?! I'm bloody blind, you fool!!"  
  
-Although I can't write in old-english verse, I've given several of the characters English accents to ease the transition from Vagrant Story to my writing techniques. I didn't think anyone would mind that much.  
  
"He urked a gutteral inquisitive noise."  
  
-This would be a gurgling against the roof of your mouth. Some would consider it a "Hm".  
  
"...no need to get all uppity about it!"   
  
-This is my slang, through and through... Sorry if it takes away for anyone...  
  
"This is Hana."  
  
-Hana is Japanese for flower or blossom. Although her ethnic backround does little dabbling in Asia, it does fit her personality, hm?  
  
"A strange snake-like warmth crawled through Fal's body, making him extremely uncomfortable."  
  
-I really don't have to explain this one, do I?  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 6  
  
=====================================================  
  
"...We figured that your blindness was a curse because of how you never said you were in pain."  
  
-Actually, this isn't true. That was an excuse to keep Fal from gnawing into Lothair's neck.  
  
"...his eyes were perpetually half-closed and actually quite beautiful."  
  
-I always respected a man who admitted beauty in another.  
  
"And in a low, silky tone, he ceased to repress one letter;  
  
"D."  
  
-Yes, Vampire Hunter D. The one and only.  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 7  
  
=====================================================  
  
"It's Turner! The smith from the west?"  
  
Fal sharply turned his head to the boy. "I thought you were killed by a Pirate!"  
  
-This is an obvious refrence to Pirates of the Carribean. Turner is Orlando Bloom and the mad Pirate is Johnny Depp (Captain Jack Sparrow).  
  
"My sword..." He recalled the chipped, blunt, rusted flank of metal in a black pigskin sheath. "...was called Sarabande."  
  
-A Sarabande (Spanish spelling: Zarabanda) is, as my Compton's Interactive Encyclopedia states, "...a graceful, stately, slow Spanish dance in triple time, developed from an earlier lively dance." I perfer to keep with the theme of dances in Vagrant Story.  
  
"How about... Fandango?"   
  
-This sword should now be familliar to anyone who's played Vagrant Story...   
  
A Fandango is (as my Compton's Interactive Encyclopedia states) "...a lively Spanish dance in rhythm varying from slow to quick 3/4 time."  
  
"...his bottom jaw protruding an inch from his top, which caused his lower lip to pout."  
  
-This expression is something I do when I'm flustered. Maybe it was vain of me to make him do this...  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 8  
  
=====================================================  
  
"It could be yours... through your heart."   
  
-Sorry for the cliche.  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 9  
  
=====================================================  
  
"On my deathbed, wench."  
  
-The definition of Wench that he refers to (as my Compton's Interactive Encyclopedia states):  
  
"...a woman whose sexual behavior is loose and immoral."  
  
The scene of the swordfight between Fal and Hana is a key part in her figuring him out. See if, by the end of the story, you can see why.  
  
============================================================  
  
Chapter 10  
  
============================================================  
  
"...D apparently had "business" during the night..."   
  
-And any fan of Vampire Hunter D would know what this "business" was...  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 11  
  
=====================================================  
  
"He walked off, whispering to his left hand."  
  
-I guess by now I could just bring this to your attention and you'd know what I was talking about.  
  
"She could barely make out a muffled heartbeat."  
  
-As Marle did (Chapter 3).  
  
=====================================================  
  
Chapter 12  
  
=====================================================  
  
"...Why, my name is Cardonia!"  
  
-Cardonia is the only one o the Cadaver Clan that can speak perfect english...  
  
"...and a plate of caviar to the general."   
  
-This is a parody of a figure-of-speech from Hamlet II. Although not used in the correct context, it is on purpose, you see. The real meaning of "caviar to the general" is something that appeals only to high tastes.  
  
"A pool of blood, not merely a puddle of it displaced on the floor below, but the whole hall opened up into a small spring of it."  
  
-This pool of blood is a refrence to the film "Legend of the 8 Samurai" (1984). The pool was apparently supposed to revive the youth of any who'd bathe in it. Technically speaking, if you normally had a bath in it rather than ordinary water, you would live forever. Sonny Chiba was in that movie as a Ninja! I completely recommend it.  
  
"The creature, Cardonia, began to brush his rotting lips along the super-sensitive skin of his throat. "  
  
-If you were wondering, I didn't try to make this "fan-service"...  
  
______________________________________________________________________  
  
Well, that's the end of the footnotes for now. I'll write more as the chapters come.  
  
-Riot of the Blood Kyo 


End file.
